Sarabeth
by sdbubbles
Summary: Gerry meets a seventeen-year-old girl on the day she receives some life-changing news. He helps her along a little as she comes to terms with it, but when it comes to the crunch, will he stand by her or will he walk away? Will it pull UCOS closer together? And then there's Sandra...and she's full of surprises.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I actually have no idea where this came from, but it's quite different from the other things I've written so please be kind!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Gerry sat with his grandson on the Haematology unit, after Paula had asked him to take the boy for his test results while she was working. There was a small chance Gerry Jr. could have haemachromatosis as Paula's mum carried the gene, but it was a long shot. This test was just a precaution. Sitting next to Gerry was a teenage girl, who looked extremely frightened. Her hands shook on the magazine she held, and she was a white as a ghost.

Gerry stood up and got a plastic tumbler of cold water from the tank and handed it to her. "Are you alright?" he asked her, genuinely worried for her. She looked barely seventeen, and she was here, waiting in this unit, alone. No parents, no boyfriend, nobody.

"Thank you," she smiled, gratefully sipping the water. "I'll be-" she cut herself short. "I was going to say I'd be fine, but I wouldn't be here if I was," she laughed humourlessly. He smiled back at her. He didn't think it was right for her to be here on her own. It wasn't fair.

"What are you in for?" he asked. "If you don't mind me asking," he added. "I don't mean to pry or anything." She brushed away his concern for her privacy with a silent wave of her small hand.

"I've not been well since I had an accident a few weeks ago. The bruise is still there, which is what worried my doctor. So this is the day of my judgement, so to speak. What about your little guy?" she returned, nodding her head at little Gerry, who was playing on his granddad's phone.

"We're just checking that he doesn't have a blood problem. Just a precaution, really," he concluded. "You look scared to death. Where are your mum and dad?"

"No idea," she answered. "I left home last year. Finally had enough, I guess. I can take care of myself, and I'm better off without them."

"That bad?" he asked. They were interrupted by the nurse calling on Gerry Jr. so they followed her into the doctor's office. He was straight to the point – little Gerry did not carry the gene and he was going to be fine. That was a huge relief, at least.

They thanked the doctor and left his office, and Gerry Jr. went and got a glass of water from the cooler. Behind them, a nurse called, "Sarabeth Johnson!" The girl he'd been speaking to froze, and her dark brown eyes widened with fear. Gerry turned and looked upon the girl. She looked terrified.

He approached her carefully, and knelt before her. "Would you like me to go in with you? Just so you have someone next to you?" he offered her sincerely. It was in his nature to help the helpless. He'd always been guilty for it.

"Would you?" she asked him disbelievingly. He'd been right – she was terrified.

"Of course," he smiled. He turned to a nurse and asked her to look after Gerry Jr. while he went with the girl he now knew to be named Sarabeth. It wasn't the most common name he'd ever heard, but he liked it. He put a hand lightly on her back and guided her to the same office he'd just been in with his grandson. They sat down and faced the doctor.

"It's not good news, I'm afraid, Sarabeth," the doctor told her grimly. "Your blood tests show that you have a fairly aggressive form of leukaemia. Do you understand what I mean by leukaemia?" he checked. "I do worry that you're only seventeen, and though seem to fend for yourself very well, you're still just a teenager. You must be very scared, and very brae," he complimented her.

"You mean blood cancer?" she managed to force from her mouth, ignoring the part about her age. "I have _cancer_?" she demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. Gerry felt her hand grip his very tightly.

"Yes," he confirmed solemnly. "There is a good treatment regime for this particular form, and there is a very good chance we've caught it in time, and it won't come back," he tried to reassure her.

"Do what you have to do," she told him, wiping away the tears. "Do whatever you need to to, but please just get rid of it." The last of her tears were wiped onto her sleeve, and she sat up, back straight, and Gerry could see she was a very proud person. And a very courageous young woman. God only knows why she'd left home at sixteen, but he had a feeling things weren't very pleasant for her there.

"Alright," he said slowly. "Well, I'll send you out an appointment for a chemotherapy consultation, and from there things should move fairly swiftly," the doctor promised her.

"Have you got anything you want to ask, Sarabeth?" Gerry reminded her to ask anything she needed to, but she merely shook her head. "Do you want to go now?" he asked her gently. To this she nodded silently. She was obviously in shock, and he wasn't about to leave her on her own in this condition.

He guided her back out, taking his grandson's hand and taking them both off the unit. Sarabeth had said absolutely nothing to anyone. He sat her down in the café and bought her a piece of chocolate cake and some sweet tea. "Get that down you," he ordered her softly as he gave Gerry Jr. his can of fizzy pop and packet of crisps Paula was never finding out about. Ever. They had a pact: what Paula didn't know couldn't hurt either of them.

"Are you OK?" Gerry Jr. piped up to Sarabeth. It snapped her out of her trance-like state and she grinned at him.

"I sure am, you little monster," she smiled at him. She lifted his can of pop and waved it about a little. "I'm guessing your Mummy doesn't know that your Granddad is giving you fizzy juice and crisps?" she winked at him, drawing attention from the fact that she and the man facing her both knew she'd just been diagnosed with leukaemia.

Just then, Gerry's phone made a noise and he opened a text message from a clearly livid Sandra: _Where the bloody hell have you disappeared to? You said an hour. Nearly 3 hours ago!_

Now he was in hot water. He hadn't meant to take so long, but traffic had been bad taking Gerry Jr. in here, and he'd went in with Sarabeth and the time had just flew away. "She's gonna kill me when I get back," he groaned to himself.

"Who?" Sarabeth asked interestedly.

"My boss. She ain't pleased that I've been out so long," he explained.

"That'll be my fault," she sighed. "Sorry for getting you in trouble. And thank you for taking the time to help me. I don't know if I'd have dealt with that very well on my own," she admitted.

"Don't be silly," she scolded her. "No trouble at all. Between you and me, the guv'nor wants to throttle me most of the time anyway. I have a habit of winding her up. Unintentional, of course," he winked at her, bringing a smile to her lips. She actually chuckled. "No, I just have to take little Gerry back to school and then get back to work."

"Which school does he go to?" she asked.

"Christ Church," he answered.

"I'll take him on the bus with me. I live round there anyway, so it would be no problem," she offered. For some reason, he trusted this kid implicitly to look after his grandson.

"It's fine," Gerry replied. "Sandra can wait til I've dropped him off," he smiled.

"After what you just did for me, it's the least I can do...sorry what's your name?" she laughed, and he realised he'd never told her.

"Gerry," he told her. "My name's Gerry. And only if you're sure," he checked. She'd just had a nasty shock, and he didn't want to out her under any strain.

"No trouble at all," she smiled, finishing her cake. "And thank you, for earlier," she said again. "Right," she breathed. "I think if we're going to get you back in time for lessons, we need to get the next bus!" she said in a falsely happy voice so as not to upset the child. She stood up and helped him into his coat and packed his school bag up.

She was clearly a natural with kids, Gerry observed. She was genuinely a good kid who was having a hard time. He stood up himself, and she stretched up on her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "Thanks," she said yet again.

He handed her his card, and told her, "If you ever need me, just call me. Or even come into Scotland Yard and ask to see Gerry Standing from UCOS," he added with a smile, knowing it would drive Sandra off her head. He saw them to the bus and promised Gerry Jr. he'd see him at the weekend. Then he got in his car and went to face Sandra's wrath. What was he meant to tell her? He wanted to just come clean and tell her what had happened. But he didn't think she would take to it very well.

Decisions, decisions.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please leave me a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm really not sure about this chapter. It went one way then the other way and then another way and ended up where it did. So sorry if it sucks.**

**And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this - much appreciated.**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"What the bloody hell took you so long?!" was the welcome he received when he slyly stepped into the UCOS office, hoping Sandra would not catch him. But clearly she had. And now he had to decide whether to tell her the truth or use the traffic excuse. But even London traffic was not a near two and a half hour delay.

"Um...traffic?" he tried anyway, his heart not really in it. He heard Brian snort to himself, and saw Steve grinning and shaking his head. He gave them both a glare to warn them to shut it and not make his bad situation any worse. He was in trouble for going AWOL on the job, and he could handle that, but he didn't know if he could handle saying anything about Sarabeth. He didn't know how Sandra would take it and what she would think of him for it,

"Yeah, right," she snapped. "The truth. You don't leave for three hours and expect to waltz back in here and for your _commanding officer_," she stressed the phrase heavily, obviously making the same point she'd made a hundred times. "Not to ask questions."

"Sandra..." he warned her not to go there. "First thing's first, you won't believe me, and second, even if you do, it's complicated."

"Don't use that word. Do _not_ use that one with me. 'Complicated' is the word people use to say 'If I tell you, you won't approve so I'll tell you that it's complicated and hopefully you'll shut up and leave me alone,'" she pointed out what he was really thinking.

"Well, yeah, you pretty much nailed it," he agreed, knowing better than to argue with her, especially when all four of them knew she was perfectly right. And to be fair, she had every right to be pissed off with him. He'd not even warned her he was running late. He'd got caught up in it all, forgetting that Sandra would be livid.

"My office. _Now_," she almost growled at him. Oh, how sexy she was when she wanted to murder him. But that was not the main issue here. The main issue was that he had two options: tell the truth about Sarabeth or lie to the one person who always caught him out in the end.

So he reluctantly followed her into the small office, where she shut the door and sat at her desk. She gestured for him to sit opposite her, but he did not, standing instead by the door in case he wanted a hasty escape. The look in her eyes said it all. They were burning a vividly bright blue, and it was clear he was not getting off with this bout of extreme tardiness.

"So, Gerry, would you like to explain to me what the hell is so _complicated_ that it took you three hours to deal with?" she asked him, in a dangerous tone that somehow was laced with a tiny amount of playfulness. He didn't know what to tell her. Just then, his phone twinkled again, and he was surprised when he didn't know the number.

_Hey, Sarabeth here_, the message read. _The hospital wants an emergency contact and you're the only responsible adult I've come across since I left home :O scary, eh? Would you mind if I put your name and number down? Only if you don't mind, of course :)_

He was slightly surprised that a seventeen-year-old used full English in her texts, but not so surprised at the faces she threw in there. He remembered trying to decipher Caitlin's messages when she was seventeen – absolute nightmare.

_Course u can mate. Get hold of me if u need anything. Any time :) _he replied. He hastily saved her number to his contacts, aware that Sandra's impatient eyes were boring into him right now.

"Do you want the truth or do you want me to make something up that you might actually believe?" he offered sarcastically, trying to avoid the actual question of why he was delayed at the hospital. She gave him a glare that would make better men cower, but not him. He was too used to it after nearly nine years of working and living under it.

"I want you, for once in your miserable life, to be straight with me. What were you up to? Woman? Betting? Dealing? Cash in hand job?" she recounted his previous misdemeanours.

"No, nothing like that," he waved her suspicions away. For once, it was nothing to do with women or money. This was about nothing more or less than a girl who was on her own, facing the prospect of a struggle with cancer with no help from whatever family she'd had before. And, for some reason, he felt a need to stick by her, and help her through this.

"Then what? Seriously, you're worrying me now," she confessed. "What's going on?"

He finally sat down in the chair she offered him earlier, decided he had to come clean. He didn't want to go through this fiasco if he was called into the hospital as Sarabeth's responsible adult. He wouldn't have the time to argue with Sandra and produce excuses out of thin air, and he knew as well as she did that she was bound to become very ill.

"When I took little Gerry to the unit," he said slowly, and a look of shocked realisation of completely the wrong thing crossed her face. "No, don't worry, he's fine. Anyway, there was this girl. Seventeen. No mum or dad with her. Nobody. And she's not well. She asked if I would go in with her in case it was bad news. And it was. Leukaemia," he clarified, and Sandra's features softened slightly at this.

"So you did what you normally do, because underneath all that Cockney brawn, you're just a soft-hearted old bugger," she smirked at him as she gave him a backhanded compliment. "Why couldn't you just tell us that?"

"Oh, you know what it's like, Sandra," he shook his head. "I'm in my sixties and she's in her teens. Need I say any more? But I wasn't even thinking like that. I was thinking that she's left home – she told me herself she's better off without her parents – and she has no-one and she has cancer. And knowing that, I am not about to walk away and leave her to struggle," he asserted, far more firmly than he'd first intended.

"I know that, Gerry," she smiled softly at him. "I know what you're like. All you had to do was give me a call and tell me what was going on, and I wouldn't have got on to you for being so late."

"Well, I think she trusts me. She's just asked if I would be her emergency contact," he couldn't help but smile just a little. He'd had enough daughters and wives, and not to mention Sandra, to know that every girl and woman needed someone trustworthy in their lives. Someone to rely on and lean on when the world was unbearable. And he was usually it.

Slowly, he rose from his chair and kissed her cheek gratefully. When he returned to his normal stance, he saw a look of shock on her now pink face. He really was thankful for her understanding. "Thank you," he told her sincerely. "You know, I think you'd get along well with Sarabeth," he smiled. She looked slightly confused for a second until she worked out that Sarabeth was the girl Gerry had gone out of his way to help today. "She seems strong and independent."

She didn't say anything, and Gerry realised quite suddenly that his lips on her cheek had done something to her brain. She slowly stood up and stopped dead in front of him. "Why do you do that? Why do you put yourself out to help someone who needs you?"

"Just the way I am," he shrugged. He felt her eyes, softer than they were mere minutes ago, search him. A white heat shot through him. It wasn't a feeling he was unaccustomed to when faced with Sandra so close to him, but he'd never felt it quite so potent. And he couldn't do a single thing about it. He was not going to jeopardise the tight bond he'd formed with Sandra just because of the sudden and powerful urge to kiss her.

He didn't realise until now that his hand had found it's way to the back of her neck, or that her fingers were interlocked with hers. And they were pulled back to Earth with a thump when they heard a gleeful but muffled wolf-whistle from the main office. The blinds were open, and he could see Steve visibly grinning and Brian elbowing him to tell him to cut it out.

Sandra stepped back immediately, her cheeks having bypassed pink straight to bright;y burning red this time. "I have...uh...paperwork to do," she said, obviously making up a reason why she had to be left on her own.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, seeing that she wanted to be left in peace to get over the desire he knew she'd felt a moment ago. As he walked out of the office, he thought about turning and asking her to keep Sarabeth's situation between them, but he knew it wasn't necessary. She wouldn't share it with anyone. He trusted her to keep it to herself.

Just as Gerry rejoined Brian and Steve, his phone twinkled and he opened another message from Sarabeth: _Just done it. Thanks for letting me :) you have no idea what a weight off my mind it is to have an adult who would make sure I'm OK if this makes me really sick._

Gerry smiled to himself, feeling like he'd done some good for someone today. _No problem. At least u got sum1 2 look out 4 u now :)_

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm not so sure about this chapter, either, haha. Not sure that I wrote Sandra and Gerry very well. Oh well. **

**And thanks for all of you who have reviewed; it means a lot!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

"Gerry," Sandra spoke for the first time since Steve and Brian left, dead on five o'clock. Gerry honestly believed they were torturing him. He was staying until eight to make up for the hours he went missing; he wasn't really demanded to since he put in extra hours anyway, but he did feel bad for leaving Sandra in the lurch.

He pretended not to hear her, not particularly looking forward to the conversation that was about to follow. It would either be about Sarabeth or, even worse, about what had almost happened earlier today in Sandra's office. "Gerry!" she almost shouted for his undivided attention. He was forced to look up this time, because there was no way he could have missed that tone of voice.

"Sandra?" he asked, as when he looked around, her expression was softer than he'd seen it in a long time. Defensive, but soft. It was the expression that reminded him that, underneath it all, she was warm-hearted.

"About earlier..." she began. "I'm-"

He cut her off, hoping it would end the conversation before it started. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I don't know what came over me." That was a lie, of course. It was the same thing that always came over him when he was with Sandra: a desire to pull her close to him and kiss her until she let herself go.

"I'm _not_ sorry," she said firmly, taking him very much by surprise. He stood up to face her across his desk, wondering where the bloody hell this had come from. This was not like Sandra, to be so unreserved. She hadn't meant to do that today, and he knew that, and it wasn't her usual behaviour. She normally wouldn't have stood up and asked him why he did the things he did. She normally wouldn't have allowed his hand to reach out and touch her, and she wouldn't have even thought of touching him, either.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked disbelievingly. "You are actually-"

"No, I'm not," she replied, deadly serious. And then he saw it. The moment the past nine years had been working up to had finally arrived. She walked very carefully towards him, and he felt her cold hands on his face. Her touch sent electricity through his spine, and he did what he felt was natural. He moved his face in towards hers, waiting a second to gauge her reaction. And she did react. Very suddenly.

He felt her pull his lips straight into hers, and he felt her kiss him so passionately that it almost seemed violent. Her lips were hungrily attacked his, so he responded with equal passion, crushing his lips into hers. He felt himself pushed back into the wall. What was this? This wasn't normal. This wasn't Sandra.

He took her firmly by her wrists and forced her back. This wasn't right. He had misgivings about her sudden disregard for caution. "Sandra, what's going on?" he asked her. "This isn't like you." He had to question her motives; she wasn't one to do things like that. Especially with him.

"How old am I, Gerry?" she asked him. What an odd question to ask.

"Fifty-one," he answered simply, and he watched as she cringed slightly at the reminder.

"Exactly," she sighed. "And I have absolutely nobody. You see, every man I go anywhere near is either a bastard underneath the charm, or they're scared of me and my temper, or they complain I don't have time for them..." she confessed, trailing off as she leaned against his desk. He saw it. He saw what had happened to her. She was incredibly lonely. "But you, Gerry, you're not scared of me. My temper doesn't bother you. You understand my work and the time it takes up. You've got a good heart. And I've somehow fallen for you...you're so _easy _to love."

He was taken aback by her honesty. And he could tell that's exactly what it was. She was, for once, being honest with him. Purely because she obviously hated it. Her bright blue eyes, usually shining with spirit and purpose, now shone with tears of loneliness. He felt his heart crack at her unhappiness.

He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her body. Because she was leaning, she was considerably shorter than him, and he could feel her head fall onto his chest. Her arms were tight around him, and he knew she actually needed him. That she was telling the truth in her roundabout way. "OK," he sighed into her sweet blonde hair. "OK. That was a bit of a shock," he chuckled, and she snorted herself. He regained his courage quickly. "You're everything, Sandra. Nine years. Nine years of pure bloody torture. And nine years of watching over you while you make your life miserable."

"I don't mean to make my life miserable," she retorted quietly. "It's just the way I am."

"And you're perfect," he reminded her. "You're strong and beautiful."

Gerry's phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked at the number and didn't recognise it, but answered it anyway. "Gerry Standing, UCOS," he said out of nothing more than habit.

"Mr. Standing," a female voice said. "This is Nurse Torres in Saint Bartholomew's hospital," she told him.

"Oh, God," he groaned, realising what might have happened. "Sarabeth?" he asked. Sandra's head snapped up, still clinging to his body. "Is she alright? Well, as alright as she can be?" he corrected.

"She was on the street when she started bleeding from her nose and mouth. Her mouth filled with blood and she had to cough it out, so a passer-by phoned for an ambulance," the nurse explained. "Her leukaemia is the probable cause of it, though the doctor doesn't want to discharge her without someone to look after her."

"OK, I'll be there soon," he asserted. He hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. "Sarabeth. She needs taken home from the hospital."

"Oh, Christ. Is she alright?" Sandra whispered. He nodded as he put on his coat. She hesitated before she spoke again. "Gerry, do you think I could come with you? Do you think I could meet her? I just want to see why you did what you did," she explained. Well, she was full of surprises tonight, wasn't she.

"Come on, then," he smiled slightly. She put her coat on, and linked her arm in his. He felt closer to her now than ever before – she'd let him in. Explained what she felt. And he had come to realise that she really_ was_ everything. She was the one he worried about, and the one he felt a strange passion for.

That passion all too often burst out, in the form of an intense argument, or a strangely quiet drink in the pub where they said nothing but stole glances at each other. He remembered when she'd put herself in harm's way before, when she'd gone diving, and he'd been so frustrated. She pulled him up for it, and he finally admitted that the source of his feelings was not in fact chauvinism, but the fierce need to keep her safe.

And when she shouted at him more than the others, he knew she didn't really mean it all. Jack had once commented on it – perhaps sarcastically at the time – but he'd come to see that actually there could be a great deal explained by the theory of Sandra Pullman masking desire with hatred.

One thing he had noticed was that, years ago, when she was making fun of him and accused him for not asking her to marry him, when she said she wouldn't do it anyway, she'd looked away ever so slightly. She'd laughed, but there was that look in her eye that she only got when she was deceiving.

All those memories came flooding back as they walked across the car park. He remembered kissing her cheek when posing as her fiancé, and her warning him off. But the heat of her skin had told a different story. How beautiful she always looked, even when she was hungover or drunk or crying. She was always stunning.

Once he was driving the car towards the hospital, Sandra broke the unsettled silence. "What were you saying? Before the phone rang?"

"I was saying you're strong and beautiful. Just perfect," he told her. "Didn't you hear me the first time?" he asked her, not understanding how she could possibly have missed that in the heavy silence of the office.

"I heard it," she smiled. "I just wanted to hear you say it again."

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please leave me a review and tell me how I did!  
Sarah x**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: OK, so I am so, so sorry I didn't post this earlier. It's been written for ages, but I kept forgetting to upload it!**

**And thank you so much for all the lovely reviews!**

**Sarah x**

* * *

It was with a certain amount of trepidation that Gerry entered A&E with Sandra by his side. Today had been one of firsts, and it seemed that was set to continue. This meant that there was a probability that they both could well end up staying with Sarabeth tonight. Despite the girl's obvious resilience, she was still only young. Come to think of it, she'd not told him how she survived on her own. How she paid her way.

"I was told Sarabeth Johnson was here?" Gerry asked, not really used to this sort of thing. "Gerry Standing," he held out his hand to the nurse, who shook it gladly, out of polite habit. "We're here to pick her up."

"She's been itching to get out of here," the nurse smiled as she led them to Sarabeth, already packed, discharged and awaiting a lift home. "Well, the doctor's finished with her and the discharge form is done. I think you can go now," she concluded.

Sandra quietly helped pack up Sarabeth's bag, and she smiled at the girl, trying to put her a bit more at ease. "I'm Sandra," she introduced herself. "I'm...a friend of Gerry's," she allowed, as she clearly had shed more than a little doubt on what she really felt for Gerry Standing tonight.

"Sarabeth," she answered, returning Sandra's smile. "You didn't kill him, then?" she joked, and Sandra looked slightly confused until Sarabeth clarified herself. "For being so late today."

"Oh, I gave him hell until he gave me a good reason," she grinned. "And you're a good enough reason," she added. Gerry didn't understand how Sandra managed so easily to talk to people, to talk about anything but what that person wanted to avoid. She was a bit of a mystery sometimes, and that was why Gerry was so attracted to her. Nine years, and all he really knew of her past was that her father was less than honest.

They finished packing up her things and left together. They got into Gerry's car, and it dawned on him that she'd only been discharged provided someone stayed with her tonight. "Have you got anyone to look after you tonight?" he asked her when they stopped at a red light.

"I don't need looking after," she replied serenely, and Gerry couldn't help stealing a glance at Sandra; that was her catchphrase in life. He didn't know which of her parents taught her that, but abandonment took it's toll and Sandra was now infuriatingly independent.

"The doctor says you do," Gerry answered, just as calmly as Sarabeth. For some reason, she trusted him implicitly after less then twelve hours of knowing his name. And she didn't particularly seem like the trusting type. Maybe she knew she needed someone, and he happened to be the one who stepped up to that role, unasked.

"I have a spare room. You can both sleep in there; there's a double bed. Right next to my room, so if I'm ill you'll know about it. That acceptable?" she demanded with the same sarcasm Sandra was so prone to.

"Good," he retorted, like he was talking to one of his daughters. Next to him, Sandra didn't seem particularly comfortable with that arrangement. He knew why; it was the thought of sharing a bed with him.

When they got to Sarabeth's home, Gerry was puzzled. A seventeen-year-old, on her own, would not be able to even rent a place like this. And she answered the question before he even opened his mouth to ask it. "My mother's best friend pays the rent, the electric, heating, council tax...all I have to worry about is buying food," she explained. "If my mother found out about it, all hell would break loose."

"Why would she put herself in that position?" Sandra asked, obviously curious. They stepped inside, and it was just as nice inside as it was outside.

"Because she saw what living with my parents was doing to me. My Physics teacher once described me as "invisibly self-destructive." He meant that nobody ever saw I was kicking myself unless they looked for it, which my parents never did. One was too drunk and one was too self-absorbed," she continued bluntly.

Gerry shared a worried glance with Sandra, who put a hand on Sarabeth's back and offered, "Why don't we get some hot chocolate?" with a sincere smile. Gerry was left standing in the hall, wondering what to make of this. Sarabeth clearly needed him, as much as she cared to deny it, but he'd never seen someone trust him so easily. If anything, people were quite often wary of him.

They all sat down together in the living room, and Sarabeth asked a question that made Gerry almost spit his drink out. "How long have you two been together?"

"Um..." Sandra began, looking suddenly nervous. "We're not together. Best friends," she added, and Gerry could see the hurt in her eyes when she said it. Because she'd attempted to get them together tonight but he had demanded a reason why, and he refused to be with her out of pity. He refused to be with her just so she wasn't alone. He wanted to be with her – there was nothing he wanted more – but he wanted it to be for the right reasons.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I just assumed. You come across as really close. Will you be alright sharing a bed?"

Sandra looked at Gerry and, to his surprise, nodded her head with a smile.

"So what are you doing just now? School? College? Job?" Sandra asked, deflecting from that awkward moment.

"Apprenticeship. Engineering," she replied.

"That's ideal, actually," Gerry realised. "It means you paid while you're learning your trade. That'll be how you can afford to live on your own."

"Yeah, I love it," Sarabeth concluded. "It means I'm free of it all. It means I'm my own person, not what they made me to be." She set her empty mug down, and her slight wobble as she stood gave her away; she was evidently exhausted, particularly with keeping on a brave face. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to bed," she admitted with a soft smile. "Do you want me to show you to your bedroom?" she asked politely.

So she did just that, and left them to it, bidding them a good night's sleep. As if that was actually going to happen. Gerry would not be able to sleep. He was too worried, bot for Sarabeth and Sandra. Sarabeth was being too strong, and for once, Sandra was doing the opposite.

Sandra eyed the bed warily, and Gerry sighed. "You really think I'd try anything?" he demanded. He knew what she was thinking. And it wasn't going to happen unless she made it clear that was what she wanted.

"No," she agreed. "I know you wouldn't."

"Exactly," he said knowingly, taking off his shirt and trousers, leaving himself in his boxer shorts. Sandra looked down at herself, and Gerry could almost see her mind debating it: if she got into bed fully clothed she would overheat, but if she took her clothes off, she might end up doing something she would regret in the morning. Gerry just huffed at her, knowing she would choose to take her top off in the end, because she hated being too hot.

And he was right. She took her shirt off, revealing a dark blue vest, and removed her jeans to her shorts underneath. And she carefully slid in the bed next to him. He shook his head when she kept her back to him. Typical Sandra. But a few minutes later, he heard a muffled sob.

"Sandra," he groaned. "Turn round and look at me," he ordered her gently. She, of course, ignored him completely, so he pulled her around by the arm. Her eyes betrayed the deep lonely misery that she kept so well hidden. "Tell me why you're crying." He brushed away the stray lock of hair out of her eyes by the street light giving a soft orange glow through the curtains.

"Gerry," she whispered. "Just give me a cuddle?"

He hadn't expected her to say _that_ but still he didn't hesitate. His arms wrapped themselves around her body instinctively. She felt incredibly breakable in his arms. "So what do you make of Sarabeth?" he asked her, trying to take her mind off whatever she was holding back from him. He wouldn't push her for information. They had all learned the hard way that it would get them absolutely nowhere with Sandra.

"She's nice," she allowed slowly. "Probably more scared than she'd letting on. Probably too strong and stubborn to admit it. Probably needs us more than she'll ever let us know, since she seems to be pretty much alone," she concluded.

"Hmm," Gerry mumbled into her hair. "You do realise you just described yourself, don't you?" he challenged her.

"Ugh. Don't remind me," she moaned into his chest, and for the first time, she was dependent on him. The woman who had always been proud to live a lonely life was finally letting someone in to see her beauty and her flaws. Everything she tried so hard to disguise.

"Alright," he sighed. "Just try and sleep, eh?" He kissed her hair and held her close, and as she started to drop off, he wondered what would happen. His life had been turned upside down today. No longer was her carefree. He now was responsible for a seventeen-year-old girl with leukaemia and a fifty-one-year-old woman who found herself alone.

_Oh, the joys of being Gerry Standing_, he thought to himself before snuggling into Sandra and beginning to fall asleep. Whatever this became, he was determined that he would stick it out, whatever the cost.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please drop me a review and tell me what you think!  
Sarah x**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So, this took a while to write, and most of you probably know why. So I apologise for this taking so long.**

**Sarah x**

* * *

Gerry woke up when the low sun poured in the window, and he quickly recalled the past twenty-four hours. Meeting a young woman with cancer. Sandra giving him in trouble for his belated return to work. Her lips crushing into his. Taking Sarabeth home. Hearing Sandra crying. Holding her tight straight through the night.

She was still in his arms, still fast asleep. Her buried his face into her messed up blonde hair, inhaling the smell of strawberries and cream from her shampoo. He was confused. He knew he did feel something for her. He knew he felt that electric spark when she kissed him. He knew it killed him when he had to see her cry.

He didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to watch her crucify herself for cutting herself off from any kind of relationship. He could feel her squirming in his arms, waking up groggily. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice tiredly slurred.

"Quarter to six," he smiled into her hair. She groaned, and he knew she didn't want to be awake at this time of the morning. "You feeling any better?" he checked, but he was pretty sure of what her answer would be; it was evident that she didn't want to live a life on her own anymore.

"Not particularly, no," she replied slightly bitterly. "It's actually no wonder nobody comes anywhere near me. I'm a bloody stroppy cow sometimes." Gerry laughed to himself, remembering the numerous times he'd been on the receiving end of her infamous ill temper.

She looked up at his face, trying to find the source of his amusement. Their faces were barely a couple of inches apart. He could see every tiny flaw on her bare skin – most of it probably caused by her crying – and he could see every fleck of colour in her eyes. Every shade of blue that made them so deep, so appealing. "Gerry, I'm so sorry about yesterday. I was lonely, I was upset, and I shouldn't have put you in that position."

"It's alright," he reassured her. Something Steve mentioned when they first met suddenly popped into his head: marriage. He didn't think she ever had been married, but there was a lot he'd got wrong about her before. So now he found himself asking: "Have you ever been married?"

He saw the shock in her eyes, and he watched her very briefly freeze. She regained her composure quickly. "Yeah, once upon a time. Years and years ago. Ended in divorce, of course," she sighed.

"Of course," he muttered grimly. "What happened?"

"Just sort of, you know, fell apart. By the end all we did was argue," she explained, tears coming to her eyes at the mere memory of her experience in marriage. He did all he could do and softly pressed his lips to her forehead.

He met her eyes, and he didn't even know what to feel anymore. Sandra didn't take sympathy, comfort or kind words very often. She was the type to sit and suffer in silence, and punish herself internally if she saw fit. But he didn't doubt his feelings for her anymore; he loved her. He had actually been stupid enough to fall in love with his guv'nor.

This time he knew what he was doing. He understood this, and he'd actually stopped to think about what was happening. This time he was making the move, and she wasn't clinging to him in some kind of attempt to have some intimacy back in her life. This time, when he so gently kissed her, he was making a conscious decision to stay with her. If she wanted him, of course.

She kissed him back, and it was slower and gentler than yesterday but just as intense. Like she was actually enjoying the moment. He felt her hand on his chest and her lips moving perfectly in time with his. It wasn't long before she was leaning over him, and his hands were on her waist. It was like they were designed for each other. Perfectly coordinated for each other.

Her golden blonde hair fell into his face, and his hands slid down to her hips. And then suddenly they broke their kiss at the sound of stumbling and retching. Sandra leapt off of him without a second thought and ran to the source of the commotion, not even bothering to put her jeans back on, just running in her vest and pants. Gerry threw on his shirt and jeans and followed her to the bathroom, where Sarabeth sat on the floor after throwing up into the toilet.

Sandra was pulling Sarabeth's hair round to the side, rubbing her back. He wondered for a moment why Sandra had never had children. It was quite clear she would have made a good mother.

Gerry went to get a glass of water for Sarabeth, and as he travelled down the stairs, he really did wonder why Sandra had never been all that bothered about her lack of a family. Was it that she thought she would be useless as a mother? Was it because of what she'd gone through as a teenager, and since then as well? He knew one thing, though: Sandra would never screw up parenthood a spectacularly as he own parents had done with her. One had committed suicide and the other one had lied to her about it for three decades.

When he got back to the bathroom, Sarabeth was back on her feet, lightly supported Sandra. He handed her the water, and caught Sandra's worried glance at him, returning it. He knew what she was thinking. She was thinking this girl shouldn't have been living on her own with this condition. She was sicker than she'd told them.

Sandra took her back to her bed, pulling the duvet over her body. Sarabeth said nothing. She didn't have the energy to say anything. "Do you want me to phone you in sick to work?" Sandra asked, a hand on the girl's forehead, partly gauging her temperature and partly as a comfort. Sarabeth just nodded, exhaustion blatantly obvious in her face.

Sandra took Gerry by the arm and guided him down the stairs. When they got to the phone in the living room, she turned to him and said, "If we hadn't been here, you do know what she would've done, don't you?"

"Yeah," he nodded grimly. "She would've done the same as you. Gone to work, cancer or no cancer." He looked for the number for Sarabeth's work and read it out to Sandra. She put it on speaker. "Greencore Maltings," a man with a mixed accent answered the phone. Like he'd lived here for many years, but originated from America or Canada. The twang was still in his voice.

""Hi," Sandra greeted him. "Sarabeth Johnson, she works for you? Modern apprenticeship?" she checked before proceeding.

"Yes," he said, confusion creeping into his voice.

"This is Sandra Pullman, a friend of hers. She can't come in today, I'm afraid. She's very ill," she explained, and Gerry just let her do the talking, his arm around her waist.

"Is she alright?" he immediately asked, and Sandra looked at Gerry helplessly. He could tell she was struggling with what to do. She didn't want to interfere, but she also believed Sarabeth's employer had to know about her illness.

"She's not in any immediate danger," she allowed, her diplomacy and police training kicking in as she allowed him to know just enough to put his mind at ease but not enough that he knew everything. "I'll get her to speak to you tomorrow morning," she promised.

"Alright, then," he sighed. "Give her my best, will you?"

"Of course," she answered. "Bye."

"Bye."

The line went dead. Sandra looked around at Gerry, and he noticed she really was quite upset about this. "I don't like this," she warned him. "I don't like this one bit. She's seventeen, she's very ill and she has no-one."

"I know, Sandra," he groaned. "I don't like it much either. When she was so ill this morning, it was like watching-"

"One of your own kids?" she finished for him. He knew what was coming now. "You know, it was like she _was_ mine. I felt this strange need to protect her, to help her in any way I could. I've never felt like that before. Not about a child. Not about a teenager I barely know. I can't leave her on her own, Gerry. It would be cruel. She would have to live with this every day on her own, never having anyone to comfort her or help her when she gets sick, because this is only going to get worse. I don't want to abandon her," she asserted.

"We won't abandon her," he promised softly, pressing a quick kiss into her lips. Then it hit him; Sandra had wanted a family. She just never trusted herself to put them first. But she had that maternal instinct to drop everything and run when a child needed her. Because, as much as she pretended otherwise, and as mature as was, Sarabeth was just a child.

"Swear to me, Gerry," she demanded slightly desperately. "I mean it. I know what it's like, what it does to you. My dad died and my mum's kept her distance ever since. I know how it feels to have as good as no family. I don't want that for her."

"I swear we won't abandon her," he whispered to her, pulling her into a tight hug. In her attempts to convince him, she had actually opened up a little about her parents, and what their actions, or lack thereof, had done to her.

He was surprised slightly when he she held him tight; she never really allowed her vulnerabilities, her flaws and her weaknesses to show. But today was a new day. A new Sandra. A new Gerry. A new era.

* * *

**Hope this is OK!  
Please feel free to review and tell me exactly what you think!  
Sarah x**


End file.
